


What Happens in Scotland, Stays in Scotland

by anne_ammons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dragon Tamer Charlie Weasley, F/M, Healer Angelina Johnson, Past Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, mature relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25093504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anne_ammons/pseuds/anne_ammons
Summary: A healer in a small Scottish clinic. A dragon tamer with more bravado than sense. Will their pasts bring them together or keep them apart?
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23
Collections: Hermione's Nook Naked Weasley Fest!





	What Happens in Scotland, Stays in Scotland

Angelina used her wand to finish knitting together the wound on the chest of the man before her.Her work was precise. There would only be a thin scar. She trailed her fingers over the line she’d just repaired, while her eyes surveyed the other scars and marks on his bare torso, lingering on the trail of hair and the chiseled v that led into his trousers. Merlin, Charlie Weasley was a specimen.

_Fucking dragon tamers. And redheads. Definitely a dangerous combination._

Charlie had begun seeking her care regularly, and she suspected that the injuries that brought him to her had little to do with his skill at his job.

She tweaked his nipple hard right before she Rennervated him and smirked when he winced at the pain, not knowing what it was from.

“Welcome back.” She said cooly.

“Angelina. Uh… thanks.” He looked down to survey the residual damage. “Ooh. Nice work. I was sure that would leave more of a scar.” He traced his fingers down the same line hers had only moments ago.

“You know my work, Charlie.”

“Indeed. That’s why I trust this to you.” He used his hand to indicate his well-defined muscular torso.

“And yet, something tells me this visit — like the one before it and the one before that — weren’t accidental.” 

“You’ve left me with few options, witch.” He reached out and caught her wrist and it felt like the temperature in the room had suddenly been ratcheted up.

“We’ve been over this, Charlie Weasley. I’m not the girl for you. And you can’t keep getting hurt so you can see me.”

“No, you may have made a decision, but if anything, I’m persistent.” His thumb stroked circles on the inside of her wrist which was driving her crazy, not that she could let him know.

“Annoyingly persistent.” She retorted. “Get it through your head. I have no intention of being more than friends with you. I loved Fred. I had an ill-advised one-off with George. I have no interest in collecting a full set of Weasley trading cards. None. You need to stop before you really hurt yourself.”

“And I told you that I really don’t care what you did with either of my brothers that long ago, Angelina Johnson. I’m just focused on you and me. Here and now. Besides, most women would love a chance to ride a dragon.” He waggled his eyebrows.

She groaned. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Annoyingly persistent.” He echoed. He grabbed his discarded shirt and surveyed the damage. “Hmm… this is no good at all. My third shirt this month. I may have to start walking around shirtless all the time.”

Angelina snatched it out of his hands and muttered the necessary spells to clean it and repair the material that had been shredded by the young dragon’s claw. She thrust it at him, and jumped back when a Medi-Witch opened the door to the room.

“Everything okay in here, Healer Johnson? Do you need a hand with anything?”

“Thanks, Diane. I’m almost done here.” Angelina waved her away, but her eyes never left Charlie’s as he fastened the buttons on his shirt, looking rather pleased with himself.

“So, Healer Johnson, what’s my follow-up regimen? When should I come back for a check up?”

“No follow-up needed unless there’s residual soreness or loss of motion, which there _shouldn’t_ be.”

His eyes flashed. “Oh, I’m sure I need follow up. Unless…” His words trailed off, expectantly.

“Out.” She said firmly.

He sighed. “Very well, witch. I guess we’ll keep doing this the hard way.”

o0o

Sundays were for catching up with friends and Quidditch. The sport remained Angelina’s guilty pleasure, riding a broom at top speed, trying to beat the Keeper at his own game. It was her luck that the best pick up game around happened to be with many of the same people she had played with when she was in school. Thus, it allowed her to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, socializing and sport.

Today, however, she was a bit distracted, as the swarm of redheads around her pulled her thoughts towards another redhead who didn’t normally play Quidditch or attend his family’s Sunday gatherings. As she lazily flew her team’s pattern, she let her mind wander. It wasn’t that she didn’t find Charlie Weasley attractive. Merlin, no. His work had kept him fit long past the point where other men had begun to soften in the middle. While pick-up Quidditch (at least the way they played it) wasn’t for slouches, clearly, it wasn’t as taxing as dragon-taming, or at least it couldn’t make up for the amount of beer consumed on the other days of the weekby some of the men she played with (read: Ron).

After Ginny screeched at her for missing a pass that Ginny’s son then caught and scored for the other team, she called in a sub and headed towards the house so she could clear her head and get something to drink.

Yes, it was pick up Quidditch, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t serious.

Angelina opened the door and stepped inside, unsurprised to find Molly bustling around the kitchen. On Sundays, the older woman was in her glory with so many of her children and grandchildren around.

“Hello Angie, dear. How are you? Come in for a snack?”

Angelina smiled. No one ever went hungry at the Burrow. “Thanks, Molly. I just wanted something to drink.”

“Well, I’ve got a pitcher of lemonade in the dining room, along with a couple other things, if you’re feeling peckish. Help yourself.” The woman turned back to the stove.

Angelina found the lemonade and helped herself to a couple of Molly’s cookies as well.

“Charlie said you healed him this week.” Molly called out from the kitchen.

“I did. He’s fine. He just needs to be more careful.” She responded while filling a glass. She took a long drink, but as she moved to pour herself a refill, she felt someone stand behind her and press her against the table. She only needed one guess to figure out that Charlie had indeed come home for Sunday dinner. Just her luck.

“Hello, witch.” He whispered in her ear.

She froze, knowing she was already hot and sweaty from the game, and his proximity would do nothing to help. Besides, she had come to relax, and not to have to evade his advances yet again.

She grabbed his arm and used it to twist herself around while sidestepping away from him.

Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. Charlie now looked at her with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Now, that’s the fire I love. You haven’t forgotten all your field training.”

Angelina groaned and motioned between them. “You and I — not going to happen, Charlie. What is it going to take to get you to stop this madness? I’d rather not have to give up Sunday Quidditch.”

He pursed his lips as if considering her question. “One date. That’s all I ask. One date. And I don’t mean drinks at the pub with a group, I mean you and me on a proper date.”

She was skeptical. “And you’ll stop hurting yourself?”

“I call those calculated risks, love.”

She rolled her eyes at the endearment that from anyone else wouldn’t be an issue. “Not your love, Charlie.”

“Not yet.” He retorted.

“There’ll be no kiss goodnight.” She added hastily, wanting to make clear that dinner wouldn’t be leading any further.

Charlie shrugged, clearly not bothered by her conditions, “We’ll see.”

o0o

It was only one date, Angelina thought as she showered after her Saturday shift at the clinic, preparing for dinner. That was simple enough. She hadn’t even seen Charlie since that day at the Burrow. It had been two weeks of quiet, other than an owl asking if tonight would work for their date. He was being extraordinarily careful, she thought, or rather, using the normal precautions that a dragon tamer should. At least that meant he could keep his promise.

She debated whether she could get away with wearing jeans this evening, but decided on a dress. She so rarely had a chance to wear one. And if you couldn’t wear a dress on a date — even a non-date such as this one — when could you wear one? She had just slipped on her heels when there was a knock at her cottage door.

Angelina opened the door to find Charlie sporting the jeans she had considered wearing, not that she had expected otherwise. This was the Scottish Highlands, after all. There wasn’t much of anyone to impress out here, which was one of the reasons she liked it. It was so much quieter than life in and around London.

Charlie whistled long and low as he looked her over appraisingly. He brought a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back. “For the lady.” He said with an impish grin.

She took the bouquet and placed them on the coffee table, casting a stay-fresh charm so they would keep until her return. “Where are we off to?”

He ran his hand through his curls — curls that neither Fred nor George had sported. “Well, that’s the thing…”

Angelina raised an eyebrow. “Charlie?” She wasn’t sure what to expect.

He had the nerve to look sheepish. “Can I side-along you?”

She nodded slowly, wary of what might be causing his concern.

He held out his arm and Disapparated them both, landing in a small, but tidy sitting room, much like hers. She looked around, trying to understand.

“Is this your house, Charlie?”

“Be it ever so humble.”He bit his lip, as if waiting for her approval.

She looked confused. “Aren’t we going somewhere? You did say this would be a proper date.” She chided.

“Indeed, I did. And, so it is. But I decided I didn’t want to share your attention, so we’re going to be doing the cooking. I hope that’s okay.” He looked at her hopefully.

She nodded. Actually, she agreed wholeheartedly. That would make this non-date a lot more comfortable if she didn’t have to awkwardly look at him from across the table, but had she known, she definitely would have worn her jeans. She slipped her heels off and placed them by the door, and he nodded appraisingly at her bare feet and kicked off his own shoes.

He led her into a cosy kitchen. “I left the chopping for you, Healer Johnson.” He pointed to a cutting board and then took two wine glasses down from a cupboard. “Now, what’s your pleasure, red or white?”

“What are we having?” She asked in return.

“Chicken paprikash.” He grinned. “A recipe I picked up while in Romania.”

“Oh, that sounds good.” Angelina pointed to the bottle of white in his hand.

“I was going to go with the beef tripe soup, but it takes too long, and the smell leaves much to be desired.” He joked, shaking his head, and she laughed.

They worked in silence for a few minutes before Charlie turned on the Wizarding Wireless; music filled the kitchen and Angelina felt herself nodding along to the beat.

“So how long have you been in Scotland, now, Charlie?” She glanced over her shoulder to where Charlie was setting out other ingredients.

“What, six months? Has it been that long?" He paused. "What brought you all the way up here, Angie?”

“I prefer the peace and quiet.” She sighed. “And the wide open spaces.”

“I feel that.” He agreed. “I was concerned that Scotland might be a bit close to home; I prefer living my own life, but I find I can pop home when I want to.”

It was her turn to nod. “I prefer being out here to being in the city. I find I look over my shoulder a less out here.”

He gave a curt nod, knowing exactly what she was referring to. They both had scars from the war, even this far from it. And they both had a Fred-sized hole in their hearts.

Before she could ruminate on that thought, Charlie reached for her hand and twirled her around the kitchen. After a few circuits of the small space, he spun her out, but there wasn’t quite enough room and her hand hit the cupboard. She reacted to the sudden impact “Ouch!”

He immediately had her hand in both of his, checking it over. “Looks okay, but I’m no Healer, mind you. Will have to go with my mum’s failsafe remedy.”

“Which is?” She knew her hand was perfectly fine, the impact had surprised her more than anything.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly, giving her a mischievous look. “A kiss will make anything better.”

He held onto her hand for a moment longer before releasing it, and she turned back to the cutting board, eager for the sudden tension in the room to dissipate. “Where do the vegetables go?”

“Straight into the pot, love.” He held a jar of spices, pouring a bit and then moving onto another jar.

Angelina watched with some amusement. “No recipe?”

He shrugged, unbothered by what some might take as criticism. “It’s better when you feel your way around, don’t you think? A lot of things work best that way.”

She eyed him suspiciously, as the topic of their conversation seemed to have shifted away from cooking.

He winked at her and laughed. “Trust me, Angie. I know what I’m doing.” The look on his face had her wondering if she perhaps had miscalculated her ability to not fall for the charms of theman in front of her.

o0o

“Oh, this is really good.” She groaned, taking a bite of her meal.

"See, much better than anything we could have gotten out.”

“I dunno. There are a couple good spots not too far.”

“Oh? You’ve tried them?”

“A girl gets tired of cooking for herself all the time.”

Charlie leaned forward. “And does this girl do so in the company of others?”

Angelina raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking if I date?”

Charlie was fishing, but she found she didn’t really care. She was enjoying the evening, having been surprised to find how natural it was to hang out with Charlie. They did have some level of familiarity, given she’d been Weasley-adjacent for well over half her life at this point, but they’d never hung out on their own.

“And if I was, what would your answer be?” Charlie leaned forward and she leaned back, taking a sip of wine.

“I’m married to my career.” She sighed. “I’m the only Healer in this part of the country. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for dating.”

Charlie nodded in understanding. “Same, but with dragons.”

She laughed. “I find that hard to believe Charlie Weasley.”

He wasn’t phased. “Believe it or not. My girls can sense if I’m distracted, and you can imagine what happens then. It makes it hard to run off and get into too much trouble.”

“I’ve seen the result.” She shook her head, hoping she wouldn’t have to heal Charlie again anytime soon.

He grinned. “Nah. That was nothing. Just trying to get a pretty girl’s attention. Besides, all the dragons here are relatively tame.”

“So why Scotland after so long abroad?” She wondered. They had danced around the topic, but she was curious as to why he had left Romania after so many years at the reserve there.

Charlie shrugged. “I’d done what I could do there. The chance to take on a new program here was too good to pass up. Besides, everyone is getting older, including me.” He chuckled. “It’s nice being around… yet far enough away.”

They both laughed and Charlie stood to clear the table. “Room for dessert?” He looked hopeful.

“I couldn’t possibly eat another thing right now.” Angelina groaned, pushing herself back from the table.

“Then let’s wait awhile.” He grinned.

After the dishes were cleared, they returned to the sitting room with another bottle of wine. Angelina was surprised how freely the conversation flowed. Charlie was both a great storyteller and an apt listener. She couldn’t remember a time when she had laughed so much, listening to his stories and sharing her own.

Angelina knew she was in trouble. Charlie was so very charming and also fit. Plus, he led an interesting life and was rather independent, both things that she would want in a partner, if she were interested in a relationship — which she was not. Although, she was still a sucker for a redhead, even after all these years.

But, she had been truthful with him all those weeks ago; he was off limits precisely because of who he was. If his name wasn’t Weasley, she’d have no hesitation in seeing where the tension between them might lead. She didn’t often run across someone seemingly so compatible. It was a damn shame.

Charlie must have sensed her turn of thought because he stopped in the middle of the story he was telling. “Have I lost you, Angie?”

And that was another thing that worried her, no one called her Angie, but coming out of his mouth, it just seemed to fit.

“Sorry, got lost in thought for a moment.” She looked down, feeling embarrassed.

Charlie sighed. “S’okay. I tend to talk a lot when I get going. Do I want to know what you were thinking?”

“Probably not.” She shrugged, hoping to avoid this conversation altogether.

“I see.” He leaned down and picked up her legs, placing them on his lap. She looked puzzled, but then his hands started kneading one of her feet and a groan escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, but continued what he was doing.

“So, let me summarize where we are. We’re two adults who, I think I can say, enjoy each other’s company, yes?”

She nodded; it cost her nothing to admit that. There were many people whose company she enjoyed, although most of them would never rub her feet.

“Neither of us is seeing anyone in part because our lives aren’t well suited for it.”

Again, she agreed with him.

“And while you won’t admit it, you find me at least a little bit attractive, at least I hope.” He gave her a devilish grin and she felt her face warm.

“But, because you have some long past history with my brother, you’re unwilling to see where _this_ could go.” He pointed between the two of them.

“ _Brothers_.” She corrected.

He dismissed that. “Brother. As you said yourself, the George thing was a moment of bad decision-making.” He reached over and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “And Fred, I know you had feelings for him, Angie, but Hogwarts was an awfully long time ago.”

She reached over and smacked his arm. “I know that, Charlie. I’m not a schoolgirl still pining for Fred. I’ve moved on.”

“But?” He looked at her, waiting.

“But, it means my Weasley dance card has already been filled.”

“Ah… see, now that I take exception to, because I just got to the dance, and I’m happy to make my own card, if need be.” One of his hands moved to rub her calf, but not any higher. He waited for her to think it through.

It was a sound objection, right? She reasoned with herself. What would everyone say about the two of them together. It was madness. And she worried that it might be very easy for her to fall for Charlie, in one way or another.

“But, your family.”

He dismissed this as well. “Please. If anything, Molly Weasley would be thrilled that someone had a chance at making an honest man out of me, especially someone who she likes. But, again, we’re adults; what happens in Scotland, need not travel to the Burrow.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not trying to put the cart before the horse. What I do know is that you are a gorgeous woman, Angelina Johnson. I’ve truly enjoyed every minute of this evening. And I would very much like the opportunity to know you even better.”

He used his grip on her calf to pull her closer to him. “Are there any other objections I should know about?”

She shook her head slowly.

“Very well, I’m going to kiss you, then.” He leaned in towards her, but hesitated just before his lips touched hers. He was giving her a final out, she realized, a chance to change her mind. By that point, however, she had resigned herself to it happening, so instead, she closed the distance and caught his lips in hers.

He didn’t hesitate to respond, nor was there that timid dance that often happens with first kisses. Instead, this was the clash of pent-up want and desire for physical connection — the kind fueled by too many nights alone, rather than teenage hormones. He pulled Angelina onto his lap, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and let her fingers run through his curls, as they both committed to this course of events.

Eventually, Charlie’s hands found her hips and he pulled her forward, making his interest plain. Again, she found the ball was in her court. She could slow down, or she could let things progress to their natural conclusion. She pulled back from him. “So, we’re doing this?”

He smirked. “Are we, love?”

“Not your love,” she grinned.

“I beg to differ. Give me an hour, witch, and I bet you’ll let me call you whatever I want.”

“Those are big words, Charlie Weasley. I hope you’ve got what it takes to back them up.” She teased and ground down on his lap.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He moved to stand without releasing her from his hold, picking her up and carrying her towards the stairs.

“Oh.” She started, unused to the sensation.

He looked amused. “What? You thought I’d have my way with you on the sofa?”

Charlie carefully laid her on his bed. When he pulled his shirt off, her breath caught. This was not the first time she had seen him shirtless, but to be over forty and in the shape he was in was a testament to the physical regiment of dragon training. She reached out to touch him, but he stepped out of her reach.

“Absolutely not. You’ve made me wait this long, now I get to make you wait.” His eyes flashed and she knew she was in trouble. He unbuckled his jeans and let them fall, standing there in just his pants. He then pulled her towards the edge of the bed and lifted her dress over her head. She was glad to be wearing a bra and knickers that matched, although it was something she had put on for herself, rather than expecting to end up where she now was.

“My god, look at you.” His eyes raked over her hungrily. 

She refused to back down from his gaze and arched an eyebrow, as if daring him.

He chuckled. “Very well then. Challenge accepted.”

He knelt at the bottom of the bed, lifting her leg and kissing the inside of her ankle. He then slowly trailed his lips down her leg, until he came to her knickers and removed them altogether. Angelina found it difficult to remain still, and as Charlie progressed, it wasn’t long before she felt herself losing the capacity for rational thought. Charlie was both very thorough and very attentive, but also maddening. Every time Angelina reached for him, he pulled away with a dark chuckle.

“Oh no, Angie. You have to be more patient than this. If you don’t want me to do this, you’ll have to speak up.”

No, she didn't want him to stop, but she preferred to drive him as crazy as he was driving her. She tried squirming out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t let her.

He brought her first with his hand, and then again with his tongue, and as she lay dazed, she felt him brush her entrance at last and surge inside, claiming her completely. Only then did he lean over, framing her body with his, as his hips pistoned back and forth.

He filled her so completely, it was all Angelina could do to wrap her legs around him and go along for the ride.

“Fuck, woman. What are you doing to me?” Clearly, he was not unaffected by their coupling.

He claimed her lips once again, and she could taste herself on his tongue.It didn’t take long before his movements became erratic; he surged twice, and she felt him freeze. His face was a picture of bliss at the moment of release, and she was glad to watch the dragon tamer come undone.

She ran her hands up and down his back as his breathing slowed.

Eventually, he lifted his head, with a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry. Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath. Would you understand if I said that it’s been a while?”

She chuckled warmly. He was worried about his performance, while she was already so relaxed, she felt boneless. Really, nothing could possibly bother her after two rather intense orgasms.

“Charlie, I’m fine.”

“Nah, can’t let that stand. I can do better.” He pivoted to lay beside her, letting his fingers trail along the lace cup of her bra. “I didn’t even get to see your gorgeous tits.”

She laughed. “How about dessert and then we’ll see where we’re at?”

He leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips. “Now you’re talking, love.”

True to his earlier words, she didn’t even argue with Charlie when he used the endearment this time, and if he noticed, he didn’t say a word. He grabbed his wand to clean them up, pulled on a pair of pants and tossed her a t-shirt.

“You’re spending the night, I hope.”

She shrugged and pulled the shirt over her head. “I don’t have anywhere I need to be in the morning.”

“And Sunday Quidditch?” He asked expectantly.

“I think they’ll be okay without me tomorrow. Something tells me I’ll have reached my Weasley quota for the week by then.”

He grinned, pleased at where they seemed to be headed. “Love, if I have anything to say about it, I think your dance card will be filled for quite some time to come.”


End file.
